19 Nov 2020
A sunny day, and though I should have probably headed for less well-travelled territory I just headed over to the Marina to grab a flat white from Imagine That's horsebox café.
20 Nov 2020
Just a quick wander up the hill to get a flat white from Twelve. I really enjoyed the spooky mannequin (?) in the window.
From what I can work out, this terrace that starts in the road called Richmond Terrace itself continues around the corners to Clifton Road and here, Queens Road, while still being called Richmond Terrace.
21 Nov 2020
A rather more wide-ranging weekend wander with Sarah and Vik, taking in some mock Tudor bits of Bedmo (I should note that I've subsequently been corrected to "Bemmie", but I'm an outsider and have been calling it "Bedmo" for short for decades...), a chunk of Ashton, a path up Rownham Hill called Dead Badger's Bottom(!), The Ashton Court estate, a bit of the UWE campus at Bower Ashton, and some of the Festival Way path.
I often walk through Greville Smyth park, and there's many other things in Bristol bearing the Smyth name. John Henry Greville Smyth was...
...an English naturalist and collector of natural history specimens. He is best known for his large private collection of mammals, birds, and insects kept at his stately home of Ashton Court in Bristol. On his death his wife, Lady Emily Greville Smyth, donated the bulk of the collection to the Bristol Natural History Museum, now known as Bristol Museum and Art Gallery.
But the Smyth name in general is all over this bit of Bristol, from Greviille Smyth Park outwards, which is hardly surprising given that the Smyth family home was Ashton Court, where four hundred years' worth of Smyths resided after Sir Thomas Arundel sold the place to a John Smyth in 1545, a few years after being gifted it by Henry VIII.
I have no idea how anyone managed to smack this street furniture so hard, or what direction they came from to do it. It's a pretty straight 30mph road right there, and this is only one side of the dual carriageway. Never seen so much as a near-miss there.
25 Nov 2020
A quick lunchtime jaunt for coffee. I've often wondered about the dots on the wall of the underpass. Apparently they're not intelligible Braille. Maybe it's Marain :D
Given that it's on an unwalled bike shed, I doubt it's there for insulation. The CREATE centre my just have it there as an example of what an eco-friendly roof can look like, though.
I don't think I ever crossed this bridge on foot before starting my "One Mile Matt" project.
When I first moved to Hotwells, there were still signs for the famous transport caff "Popeye's Diner", a well-known refuelling point for truckers on the way in or out of Bristol. It was also the cafe used for interior shots in some episodes of Only Fools and Horses. You can see it as it used to be in the "Trigger's broom" sketch, for one. These days it's a much posher affair, and they do a very good Eggs Benedict when they're open.
You can see a before/after comparison of how the interior looked when I moved to the area in the 1990s and how it looks now in this shot on Flickr that compares an Only Fools and Horses still with a modern shot.
Office? Control room? Whatever it is, I've always been a bit fascinated by the little suite of rooms under the north side of the Plimsoll Bridge. The little gantry is directly below the place where the swing bridge meets the road proper, so presumably it's there for inspections when the bridge is swung?
The Cumberland Basin Flyover System is indisputably ugly, I'd say. At least you get presented with the rather lovely pink of the Rose of Denmark when you get through it and swing around onto the main Hotwell Road into town.
21 Nov 2020
This is my return from getting my annual flu jab at Christ Church, as explained in more detail in my wander up the hill.
I do love this terrace. The mansard roofs, the grand central house, the ornamentation, the porches. It's all rather grand.
Used to be a fairly nondescript place with offices or a home—not sure which—over a double-garage, which seems to be the standard layout on this stretch of PVS. The only thing I remember about it is the only nondescript thing: it had a big flagpole jutting out of the top floor. You can still see a St George's Cross dangling from it on Google Street View.
21 Nov 2020
A trip up the hill to get my winter flu jab. I'm not sure I really needed it this year, what with avoiding Covid—I haven't had so much as a sniffle in more than a year—but seeing as they offered... Instead of the doctor's surgery on Pembroke Road, they'd taken over Christ Church, presumably to give more room and ventilation for the necessary social distancing at the moment. As usual, it was their typically efficient operation, and I was in and out in about three minutes.
On the way there and back I snapped as much as I could, but I wanted to be home in time for the first online Times Crossword Championship. As it turned out, I needn't have bothered, as the technology at the Times couldn't keep up with the demand from competitors, and their system just collapsed under the weight of page-views. They tried again the day after, and it collapsed just as badly. Maybe next year...
This wander is split into two parts, as I turned my tech off to go into Christ Church for my jab. The walk home can be found over here.
26 Nov 2020
I took the day off my day job to do my accounts—or at least do enough bookkeeping to send them to my accountant. I hate doing the books. I woke up late, tired and with a headache and decided to bunk off for a walk around Cliftonwood, Clifton Village and Clifton instead, taking in a couple of good coffees along the way. Thanks, Foliage Café, and Twelve for the flat whites.
The Hillsborough Flats are a lot prettier from the back than their frontage on the Hotwell Road suggests, I think.
27 Nov 2020
I took an extra-long break at lunchtime today as I'd taken the day off my normal day-job to do the accounts for my previous side-job, which is still generating paperwork, though not much in the way of money. This took me through some undiscovered bits of Cliftonwood, including Worlds End Lane, which unexpectedly leads to White Hart Steps. That's certainly not where I expected the end of the world to lead to...
I don't know much about architecture, but I know I'm underwhelmed by whatever's going on here.
A long ramble, starting with trying to find the Hot Well of Hotwells and leading up the side of the Avon Gorge to the Downs and then through Clifton for coffee.
It's very nice in there. I will never be wealthy enough to be asked to join, which I understand it the only qualification I don't fulfill, being white, male and old. Actually, I tell a lie; in 2006 they voted to allow women to join, after only 188 years of prior existence